Insert Slash Here: A Collection of Oneshots
by Brittany Diamond
Summary: K/S. I take real moments in TOS and write the scene that could have or should have come before or after said moment, in a realistic way. Flirting, banter, epic romance, sexual tension, and more. Rated M, but not for every fic. 100 reviews!
1. Degrees

**Author's Note: **As I watched TOS and the movies I would notice opportunities for oneshots (like the characters alluding to an adorable scene that must have taken place but we never get to see) every now and then and write down the ideas. So here is where I shall put them all. There will be at LEAST nine stories total.

We're in serious trouble. XD

**About This Oneshot: **This is directly inspired by this clip from The Final Frontier, in which Kirk proves once again that his indeed Captain Sexy Pants, and not Captain Subtle Pants: http://www. mediafire .com/?zqqoumj0imz

Take out the spaces around 'mediafire' and enjoy the slashiness, then read on and (hopefully) enjoy the events that I say took place shortly after.

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**Degrees**

Kirk entered his quarters with his hiking backpack and casually let it fall to the ground as the door whooshed closed behind him. Well it didn't so much 'whoosh' as it did slide, get stuck, slide some more, get stuck again, then finally close. The captain didn't pay much attention to the problematic door, though, because he was determined to fit in a quick shower before he faced the hostage situation that was unfolding at breakneck speed, which didn't leave him much time.

As he peeled off his clothes, he made sure to inhale deeply and savor the smell of the outdoors while he still had the chance. Before long he'd be in a clean uniform and settled back in to the sights and smells of his new Enterprise, with the crisp fragrance of nature serving as only a fond memory for him to think back on when he was feeling particularly caged in among the metal and circuitry. Tossing his shirt and jacket into the laundry compartment, he sat on his bed and started untying his shoes. Even though it meant saying goodbye to the woodsy aroma he was so fond of, he was actually looking forward to his shower. Having been robbed of a proper night's sleep, he was beginning to feel the first signs of fatigue and needed some hot water to brighten him up a bit so he could be as alert as possible for the crisis at hand.

He slid his right shoe off his foot and let it hit the floor as a small twitch of a grin began to pull at the corner of his mouth. All this anticipation for the shower reminded him of the cunning little stunt he'd pulled on Spock in the turbolift after they had gotten back to the ship. That Vulcan was such a clever bastard, smacking down a subtle offer for a joint shower session just so he could deliver a sharp one-liner. It was moments like that which reassured the tired, old James T. Kirk that their relationship was quickly returning to the way it used to be.

Taking a moment to relive the memory, his grin suddenly began to fade as he called into his mind every detail of the brief encounter. He pulled off his other shoe and yanked off his socks, his brow furrowing slightly. Now that he really thought about it, Spock had seemed to reply with a particular level of honesty that would suggest Kirk's implication had gone undetected. He couldn't help but frown a little as he slid out of his pants and boxers, now completely free of clothing. He never liked moments of miscommunication, but ever since Spock had come back to life he found that those instances had become particularly painful. Even though he knew it was just part of the process of helping Spock get back to where he'd been before he had died, it felt like they took a step backward every time Kirk had to stop and explain a memory, detail or facet of their intimacy. Sure, Spock had come a long way, mostly thanks to McCoy's idea of having another bonding ceremony, but Kirk had gotten so used to everything being...well…effortless. At least things between him and Spock had _become_ effortless after Spock's mindmeld with V'Ger, and that's how he had liked it. Nowadays Kirk felt like he was having to draw Spock a picture to get some of his thoughts across. Okay, so maybe that's exaggerating a bit, but it still felt damn strange.

Realizing that he had been staring at a wall for two minutes straight, he shook himself out of his stupor and entered the small bathroom. When he got close enough to the shower stall the door opened automatically, and he jumped clear out of his skin when he saw Spock waiting patiently on the other side.

Here he had been expecting a simple, empty space for him to get clean, but instead he found his very own Vulcan standing there with nothing but a towel around his waist and hands calmly placed behind his back as if he was fully clothed and on duty. Under different circumstances Kirk would have busted out laughing at the sight set before him, but his jaw was far too busy hanging down to the floor to do anything else for a while.

"My apologies," Spock began with a soft glint in his eyes, "but at the moment of your thinly veiled overture in the turbolift, I could not resist giving a response that I believe Dr. McCoy would refer to as a 'humdinger.' Your attempts at innuendo are getting progressively more blatant with each passing Earth day, Jim. The crew may very well begin to file complaints."

Kirk gaped at his bondmate for a few more seconds before his brain rebooted and he could begin to respond.

"I…I was actually starting to think the whole thing had gone over your head," Kirk stated, his sense of surprise laid bare in his voice.

Spock shook his head slightly, "I could no more misinterpret a moment of such apparent flirtation as you could withhold from initiating it."

The captain couldn't help but let a wide, gleeful smile glide across his face. It was then that he noticed Spock's partial covering versus his complete nudity.

"Why the towel?" he asked with a nod of his head, leaning coyly against the shower's entry.

"If my memory serves," Spock replied with the utmost professionalism and sincerity, "before I died you took great pleasure in removing my last article of clothing for me in situations such as this."

Kirk cocked his head, slightly puzzled, "I never did that."

Spock took a moment and processed the response. Deciding that he must have been mistaken, he then went to remove the towel himself. In the flash of a moment, Kirk's left hand darted forward and caught the Vulcan's wrist.

The captain's voice dropped an octave, "Not that I can't start now," he said with dancing eyes as he stepped into the shower.

The door closed behind him, thankfully without difficulty.

Now merely inches apart, their eyes remained locked in a heated, adoring gaze. Kirk slowly reached out with his right hand and pulled at the cloth wrapped around Spock's slender waist. The towel dropped to the floor and was instantly forgotten. Relaxing his grip on Spock's wrist, he slid the palms of their hands together and relished the warm surge of electricity that always accompanied such a touch. They lingered like this for a few long, quiet moments as they simply drank in the familiar, but endlessly scintillating, sight of each other.

At last, Spock reluctantly broke the silence, "I do not believe time is something we have copious amounts of."

Kirk wrinkled his nose, knowing that what he said was true but not wanting to admit it. Sadly, now was not the time to linger. Using his free hand, Kirk pressed the button that turned on the shower and they were instantly bombarded with a stream of warm water that rained down from the ceiling. Neither man flinched as the liquid ran quickly but decadently over their naked bodies. Kirk noticed that the temperature felt particularly perfect and glanced at the display screen on the wall to his right.

"36.5 degrees Celsius?" he read aloud with inquisitive awe.

Spock gently withdrew his hand from their Vulcan kiss so he wouldn't be distracted as he answered, "When I first took my place in your shower, I seemed to recall that you prefer the temperature of the water to be at precisely 36.5 degrees for the first five minutes, and then 38.1 degrees for the remainder of the shower's duration. However, taking into consideration that my memory is not yet operating at full capacity, the possibility of my error is justifiably present."

Kirk's eyes widened a little. It was a small detail that others might dismiss as trifling, but in this case the significance was anything but frivolous. Kirk had only mentioned his shower preferences as a passing statement over a decade ago, before their five-year mission had ended. Up until now Spock had only remembered things from as early as his pursuit of Kolinahr, but evidently that was changing.

There was hope.

Tremendous hope.

A rare wave of blissful peace washed over Kirk's heart as he pressed the length of his body up against his t'hy'la.

"No, no" he assured Spock in a gentle, lilting tone, "You're absolutely right."

With a delicate sense of passion, Kirk leaned in and brought their mouths together in a deep, but graciously tender, kiss. It was now unerringly clear that, at least when it came to one of the most treasured aspects of their relationship, he had no need to worry. Even if Spock never regained all of their incredible history, he was _alive_.

And that, for Kirk, would always be more than enough.


	2. Nerve Endings

**About This Oneshot: **In Season Two's episode 'The Omega Glory,' the following tidbit occurs:

_Spock Nerve Pinches someone._

_Kirk: "You oughta teach me that sometime."_

_Spock: "I have tried, captain."_

_Kirk glares at Spock._

So naturally, after seeing this, I flailed in a way that would make Kermit blush. Apparently Spock had tried to teach Kirk the ol' Vulcan Nerve Pinch, and it hadn't gone so well. Well since we'll never see the scene itself (damnit) I decided to write it. Note that I'm trying to make it seem like this could have happened (so justifying the type of glare Kirk gives Spock in the Omega Glory scene etc).

Enjoy. XD

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**Nerve Endings**

Kirk sat with his feet up on the desk and his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a fervent passion in an attempt to distract himself from glancing at the clock on his monitor for the twelfth time in the past ten minutes. No, it wasn't time yet, but it was close. Very close.

Lost in thought, he couldn't help but grin a little. Sure, there were about a thousand other more productive things he could be doing, but none of them would be nearly as fun, or as fascinating. He'd gotten the idea not too long ago and, as it always happened in cases like this, once the thought had crept into his head there was no use doing anything else until he turned it into a reality. Now, on the grand scale of plans it was probably pretty low on the totem pole, but however small it might seem to other people, for the past few years he had practically lived for moments just like this. He wasn't even entirely sure what was going to happen, he just knew that it was a situation he very much wanted find himself in, and soon.

Finally giving in to his eager curiosity, he let himself look at the clock. His grin gave way to a full fledged smile.

The time was now.

He sat up and slapped the button for the intercom, doing his best to smother his giddiness and plaster on a sense of duty.

"Kirk to bridge," he said in the most official tone he could muster, "Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan's smooth voice poured through the speaker, "Yes, captain."

"You busy?"

"I am preparing to leave Sulu in charge and take my designated thirty minutes for lunch," Spock replied.

"Really? I must have good timing. Report to my quarters at once."

"I am on my way."

Kirk stood from his seat and took a leisurely walk around his room to loosen up. On one hand he didn't want Spock to miss a meal, but on the other hand his Vulcan physiology wasn't nearly as affected by missing one lunch than a human's was, so it wasn't really a big deal. He also didn't have the patience to wait for the next opportunity.

It didn't take long before the door to his room slid open and Spock entered in his usual cool manner, looking as sleek and in control as he made such an effort to always be.

"You asked to see me, captain?" Spock inquired.

Kirk greeted him warmly, "Ah, Mr. Spock, I was wondering if you could help me with something. That is, unless you're anxious to get to lunch."

"Anxiety is a burden upon humans, not Vulcans."

"Of course, my mistake," Kirk admitted with a straight face, "I was wondering if you could teach me that nerve pinch you do so well."

Spock's right eyebrow shot straight up, "Captain?"

"Humans can learn it, can't they?"

"Yes, but a non-Vulcan mastering such a technique is exceedingly rare."

Kirk held his hands out in front of him, "Am I not a rarity?"

"The probability of a human successfully mastering the Vulcan Nerve Pinch is 1,236,742 to 1. It is not your rare quality that is in question, but the practicality of pursuing a virtually hopeless endeavor when the situation is in no way dire or otherwise suggests the necessity of such an attempt."

"Is it just me," Kirk said, squinting his eyes slightly, "or was there a compliment in there somewhere?"

Spock let out a barely audible sigh, "If there is one thing I can depend on when conversing with humans, it is that they will hear a series of relevant facts and only extract the one that directly pertains to them."

Despite the criticism, Kirk counted that round as a victory and moved on, "Little chance or not, I'd still like to try and learn if it's not too much trouble. Besides, if I gave up because the odds weren't in my favor I wouldn't be standing in front of you right now."

The captain instantly realized the accidental double meaning that had slipped into his last statement and his face fell slightly. He was quick to hide it, but he knew that Spock may have very well noticed. There was no way of telling if that was the case, though, and now he was on edge.

Spock folded his hands behind his back, "May I ask what caused this sudden interest?"

Feeling his control over the situation starting to slip, Kirk casually waved away the inquiry, "I've been meaning to ask for a while. Are you gonna teach me or not?"

Spock took a moment to contemplate the situation while Kirk did his best to not look like this was becoming awkward as all hell. So far, things were definitely not going according to plan.

Arriving at a decision, the Vulcan straightened up, "Very well."

"Wonderful," Kirk said, brightening at the good news, "Can we start now?"

Spock nodded and stepped towards his superior officer until he stood directly in front of him. Gracefully raising his right hand, he pointed out a place on Kirk's upper shoulder, careful not to actually touch him. Kirk did his best to keep his brow furrowed with concentration.

"In the basic anatomy of most humanoid life forms," Spock began, "there is a cluster of nerve endings located at the base of the neck on the shoulder that will render said life form unconscious after an exact amount of pressure is inflicted. If you are facing your opponent, it is the thumb that is placed directly on this area. If you are behind your opponent, it is the middle finger that is placed directly on this area. The precision required is exact, hence the difficulty for non-Vulcans to properly perform this maneuver."

Normally this would have been the moment when Kirk would let loose a retort about oh-so-perfect Vulcans that would undoubtedly ruffle his teacher's feathers, but his mind was concentrating on something a bit more relative to his current interests.

There was a soft heat that seemed to radiate from Spock's fingertips that warmed Kirk's shoulder slightly through his uniform. There had been other times where they had gotten close and he had noticed this, yet he was far from fully accustomed to it. Much to Kirk's dismay, though he wasn't about to convey such a reaction, Spock withdrew his hand and reunited it with the other behind his back.

"If you please, captain, mimic what I have just shown you."

Kirk was taken back, "On you?"

"Affirmative," Spock replied, "We will address the matter of the necessary amount of pressure at another time. The first objective is to attain the skill of proper placement."

Kirk let his eyes shine a little more than he should have, "I thought Vulcans didn't like to be touched?"

If Spock was affected, he didn't show it, "It is for the sake of the lesson, therefore I shall put any discomfort to the back of my mind."

Kirk had to practically choke back a smile.

Discomfort.

Right.

He lifted his left hand and ever so gently replicated the positioning that Spock had demonstrated, also being careful not to actually touch him.

"Is that right?" Kirk asked innocently, fully aware that he wasn't looking at his hand so much as staring straight into Spock's eyes.

Kirk searched the Vulcan's gaze and felt his chest sink a little when he didn't find even a shadow of the particular type of inner conflict he had become accustomed to sparking within his first officer.

That's when he decided to let his hand accidentally graze Spock's shoulder.

Spock's breath caught for such a flash of an instant that at first Kirk wasn't even sure he'd seen it happen. The silence that followed barely lasted a second.

"If I am to correctly judge the accuracy of your hand placement," Spock said tentatively, "you will need to make physical contact. Apply no pressure, as you may accidentally trigger the desired effect."

It took every ounce of restraint for Kirk to keep his eyebrows from hitting the ceiling as he lowered his arm, "I thought the chances of a human getting it right were 1,236,835 to 1?"

"1,236,742 to 1," Spock corrected, "In my experience on the Enterprise I have taken note of your particular tendency to bring to fruition even the most improbable results. This is why I agreed to teach you such a skill, and it is why I advise you to not apply any pressure."

Kirk let his grin show this time, "Spock, you flatter me," When all Spock responded with was a quizzical look he added, "You're gonna tell me there wasn't a compliment in there somewhere?"

"I generally make an effort not to state that which is already obvious."

Spock's words had been cold, but his eyes had begun to smile in a way that had been seen before, but only by the man before him. Being on the receiving end of that kind of energy made Kirk's pulse quicken so fast he was barely aware of it happening.

Taking the opportunity to further the lesson, Kirk reached forward once more and placed his thumb on the point that Spock had shown him minutes earlier, letting his fingers rest as if he was in the middle of giving a very relaxed slap on the shoulder. His eyes only flickered away from Spock's for a moment so that he could at least land in the same ballpark as his instructor had.

Spock's voice was solid as he maintained eye contact, "Move your thumb .23 millimeters downward."

Kirk did his best to follow instructions and adjusted his position, "Now?"

Spock's gaze changed then as a new thought stirred within him. His eyes shifted, becoming hesitant and guarded.

"I am afraid," Spock began, too stubborn to break eye contact but clearly wanting to, "that to truly show you the exact placement, it would require that I guide your hand myself."

Kirk knew exactly what he was getting at and dared to push just a little more. "Well?" he asked simply.

Spock softly cleared his throat, "Captain, if I were to do that-"

The intercom whistled suddenly, and on reflex Kirk withdrew his hand as they both looked over at his desk. Spock turned back, silently asking for permission to answer the call with his neutral expression now firmly in place. If anything had begun to open up in Spock, it was closed tight yet again.

"Scott to Captain Kirk," a familiar accent proclaimed, "Is Mr. Spock with you?"

Kirk cheerfully motioned for Spock to do as he pleased as if all was well with the galaxy. After the Vulcan had turned his back, however, Kirk took a moment to rub his eyes and mentally curse his luck with expletives that would only make sense to the inhabitants of Gorgon 5. He could fling himself into extreme danger and come out unscathed, bring peace to races that had been warring for centuries, outsmart computers of almost god-like programming, but he couldn't get Spock alone for five minutes without being interrupted by his own crew. Once again, things were not going according to plan.

Spock spoke dryly into the intercom, "Yes, Mr. Scott?"

As Kirk was quietly venting his frustration, his head popped up. Even though the quiet moment was ruined, there was still room for some devious fun. It wouldn't bring the smile back to Spock's eyes, but it would certainly end things in Kirk's favor.

"Just confirming our appointment scheduled at 1400 to run the warp drive efficiency tests," Scotty informed.

After all, the nerve pinch wasn't _that _complicated.

"Indeed," Spock replied, "The appointment still stands."

Kirk crept up behind his first officer.

"Thank you, sir," Scotty said cheerfully.

The captain poised his hand above Spock's shoulder.

"You are welcome, Mr. Scott," Spock assured as he switched the intercom off.

Kirk swooped down and seized the Vulcan's shoulder, rendering him…completely unaffected.

Spock allowed his eyes to roll skyward for a moment. Kirk squeezed again, this time with even more gusto, only to produce the same result. Spock crossed his arms and turned to face him.

"Are you finished, captain?"

Kirk made one last valiant attempt to render Spock unconscious and, when he failed for a third time, admitted defeat.

"It doesn't look that difficult," he muttered, absently raising his hand across his chest and to his own shoulder, "it's just a pinch."

He squeezed.

It worked.

It would never happen again.


	3. Paycheck to Paycheck

**Author's Note: **The real Author's Note is at the bottom but I had to pop in and say that, while the last couple of fics have been rather tame (despite nudity in the first one), this one is decidedly more…mature. Like, 'rated R' kind of thing. Why? Well to put it in technical terms: This shit is **hawt**.

That is all.

* * *

**Paycheck to Paycheck**

Kirk rubbed his chin as he studied the multi-level chess board on his desk. He wasn't quite sure when it happened, but at some point during his game with Spock he had gone from the one chasing to the one on the run, and now he was trying to get himself out of a tight spot. He surveyed the pieces on the different levels of the board, forming a brilliant plan only to shoot it down a moment later for one reason or another. Even in the depths of his concentration, however, he was still very aware of his opponent's presence.

Across from him sat Spock, waiting patiently and exuding supreme confidence in his chess capabilities. Because Kirk couldn't risk actually looking at him for certainty of being caught, he had to rely on his peripheral vision. From what he could see, Spock's eyes seemed particularly intent on watching him contemplate his next move. While Kirk was staring down the chess board, Spock appeared to be staring down Kirk himself.

If the captain knew anything about this particular Vulcan, it was that he tremendously enjoyed observing people who were absorbed in a thinking process and, whenever it happened to be Kirk doing the heavy ruminating, Spock would get an unusually captivated expression that never failed to send a delectable shiver up Kirk's spine. This instance was no exception.

Kirk reached for his glass of Saurian brandy without taking his eyes off the game. He needed a momentary distraction from the feel of Spock's gaze so he could focus long enough to make a move on the board. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that he had a poor grip on the glass and when he went to take a sip the precious liquid spilled onto his shirt.

"Damn," Kirk swore under his breath, standing up and keeping his head down to hide his blush of embarrassment, "I'll, uh, go change." He took a quick look at the board and made the first move he could see. "Your turn."

He only glanced at Spock as he went into his bedroom, but it was enough to see that the Vulcan's inquisitive eyebrow was perfectly arched.

Now alone, Kirk took off his soiled shirt and opened the dresser to grab a clean one. He never seemed to make an ass out himself like this unless Spock was around, a detail he was sure his first officer had picked up on. Hell, McCoy had noticed it and he didn't even have the advantage of a Vulcan's heightened observational skills.

Spock's deadpan tone came from the other room, "Check."

Kirk paused, clean shirt in his hand, and glared at the doorway with a slight smile on his face. That pointy-eared bastard thought he was _so_ smart, and the worst part was that he was right. Despite the fact that Kirk might be on the losing side when it came to logic, his devilishly cunning ideas were often what put him on top.

Ideas like the one he had just gotten.

Shirt still in hand and chest still bare, Kirk strolled casually back into his office. It took every ounce of discipline in his body to keep from smirking when he caught Spock's eyes widen slightly, then be wrangled back under control an instant later. Kirk stood over the chess board and took his precious time unfolding his shirt as he tried to decide which piece to move next. The rook? Too obvious. The queen? Too risky. This was clearly going to take some serious concentration on his part.

As Kirk centered his intense focus on the strategic issue before him, he pretended not to notice when Spock shifted slightly in his seat. Counting that as a victory, and feeling a bit merciful at the moment, Kirk decided to take his turn on the board and wrestle himself into his shirt.

Now back in full uniform, Kirk sat in his chair and waited. "C'mon, Spock," he teased with a grin, "if you took this long with every decision you'd never earn your weekly paycheck around here."

Spock sat up, studied the board, and moved his knight to an upper level. "Checkmate," he declared simply.

Kirk's grin fell from his face as Spock looked at him with quietly proud, gloating eyes.

Grimacing a little, Kirk inspected the board carefully before agreeing, "So it is."

They traded glances, then stood up and got to work resetting the board for next week's match.

Spock was quick to point out, "Logic appears to have prevail once again. Would you agree, captain?"

"In this case, I can't argue," Kirk half-mumbled before brightening a little, "However, I recall intuition having its fair share of victories in the past."

"If my calculations are correct, logic has won twenty-two more games than intuition has claimed over the past year of engagements."

"I thought we agreed to not keep score?" Kirk asked with a twinge of playfulness as he picked up a king and moved the piece to its proper place, "It's more fun when nobody knows who's gonna be on top next."

Kirk knew the innuendo was almost ludicrously blatant, but he kept right on going with his task as if it had meant absolutely nothing.

Spock's outside demeanor didn't waver in the slightest, but his voice took on a peculiar edge, "My apologies. I find it difficult to ignore statistics such as this, as the information proves to be advantageous in certain situations."

"Like pointing out how much better you are at chess than I am?"

"I would not necessarily suggest that my skill was 'better,' captain."

"Then what would you _suggest_ it was, in relation to mine?"

"Incomparable."

Kirk paused with a bishop in his hand, unable to hide his grin. Was Spock taking a stab at his ego to get back at him for the 'on top' line? There was no way to tell, for the sly Vulcan was behaving as innocently as possible, continuing to put pieces in their rightful place by himself. With the board almost entirely reset, Kirk would have to act quickly if he wanted to retake the lead. He wasn't about to lose two games in one night.

Resuming the simple task, Kirk tried to think fast in terms of what he could do to retaliate. With his eyes on the board, he saw that only five more pieces needed to be placed.

Four.

He noticed that two of the pieces were pawns that needed to be set side by side.

Three.

It was almost too perfect.

Two.

He snatched up a pawn and made the move to set it down in its rightful spot at the exact moment Spock was doing the same action with the pawn he held.

The backs of their knuckles slid against each other.

The intense sensation that shot up Kirk's arm during the brief contact caught him completely off guard, and when it happened he had no time to hold back the small moan of enjoyment that escaped his lips. Quickly realizing that he had gone too far, he tried to yank his hand away.

Spock caught him by the wrist.

Their eyes now locked, Kirk became increasingly aware of Spock's tightening grip. There was something volatile swirling in the Vulcan's eyes now, something dangerous, unstable. He'd never seen Spock look at him like that before, and concern began to build up in his chest.

"Spock?" Kirk said tentatively, "What's happening?"

Without warning, Spock yanked the captain across the desk and onto the floor, sending chess pieces flying across the room. Kirk was so blindsided by the sudden force that he barely had time to get to his feet before Spock wrenched his left arm behind his back and shoved him into the nearby wall. Pinned by Spock's body, Kirk gasped for air as he tried to free himself. Spock grabbed Kirk by the hair and pulled his head back so he could speak into his ear.

The Vulcan whispered savagely, "I…need…"

Unable to say any more, Spock let go of his hair as Kirk's thoughts raced to figure out what the hell was happening. It was clear that, even with a free arm, Kirk was no match for Spock's strength when he had that much adrenaline pumping through him. Now with the side of his face against the wall, Kirk wondered if he was about to be killed by the one man he cherished most.

Then he felt Spock's hand slide roughly over his hip.

All of Kirk's thoughts snapped into place.

This wasn't about rage, it was about need.

Spock leaned back just enough so he could slip his hand between Kirk's body and the wall. With Spock's charged fingertips taking hold of his groin, Kirk inhaled sharply at the gruff, electric contact. Kirk could already feel himself stiffen under the exquisite pressure and his eyes slid shut.

Breathless, Kirk struggled desperately to speak, "Sp…Spock…"

Spock's hand began to grip and rub. Restricted by the close quarters, his movements were coarse and jarring, offering Kirk only bursts of teasing pleasure. Opening his eyes, Kirk pressed his forehead into the wall, panting heavily as he fully hardened against the mercilessly taunting motions. Spock readjusted his position and when Kirk felt the movement shift from short and jagged to a longer stroke he let out a deep, long moan and leaned back until his head was resting on Spock's left shoulder. As he struggled to catch his breath, Kirk's free hand found its way to the back of Spock's head and gripped his hair, forcing the Vulcan's mouth next to his cheek.

Suddenly, Kirk was vigorously whirled around so that his back was now against the wall. Spock pressed the length of his body into him, placing one leg in between both of Kirk's and continuing to massage the captain's undulating erection through his pants. Kirk grabbed fistfuls of Spock's shirt and buried his forehead into his first officer's neck, his exhales becoming more labored and ragged with each passing second. He could feel Spock's own firm cock pressing into his hip, and he instinctively started grinding against it with a needy force. Spock's chest heaved at the new friction. Snaking his free hand between the wall and Kirk's back, he brought them closer together but still relied on the wall for support.

Instead of frustrating them, the cloth barrier of their uniforms only inspired them work harder for the ecstasy that was mounting rapidly between their heated bodies. Spock quickened his hand and Kirk managed to choke out a swear as he gripped Spock's shirt with so much strength the fabric threatened to tear. His insides were clamoring for a fierce climax, yearning for it to be brutal, ruthless.

The pace got faster, the breathing more frantic. Spock was grunting with nearly every move as Kirk gritted his teeth from the crushing intensity.

Then everything froze in one sublime, suspended, aching moment as they both reached dizzying peaks.

And it all came crashing down as a violent orgasm ripped through Kirk's body and he let out a deep, guttural moan, feeling Spock shudder and cry out in the wicked throes of his own wrenching passion. They grasped each other, desperately thrusting, rubbing, pushing. As they groaned loudly into each other's ears, they made sure the other knew exactly how fucking hard they were making each other cum. The motions continued, and then the explosive sensation began to dwindle in the most intoxicating way.

With the height of the moment behind them their movements slowed, then eventually stopped completely. Kirk's hold on Spock's shirt started to lessen as he leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to regulate his breathing.

Kirk was speaking before he could stop himself. "Mr. Spock," he panted, "you've earned your pay for the week."

Even though he took a second to laugh at his own joke, he immediately hated himself for saying it. If there was a time for humor, this moment definitely did not qualify. They stood there for a solid minute, totally silent.

Feeling awful for saying what he did, Kirk lifted his head and opened his eyes, readying an apology.

When his gaze met Spock's, all words flew out of his head.

There was such an overwhelming mixture of soaring relief and pressing distress in the Vulcan's piercing stare that Kirk was expecting him to start crying at any given moment. The weight of what had just happened began sink down in Kirk's stomach. All this time, all this waiting, and this is how it happens. Was it just a cheap way to get off? Another notch in the bedpost? Kirk could see these questions and more darting around in Spock's mind, and he started to panic. What could he possibly do or say that would assure Spock that all of this hadn't been just another game? If only there was a way to…

Kirk slowly leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Spock's. Lips didn't part, tongues didn't probe, they simply kissed. As Kirk's left hand gently found the back of Spock's head, all he did was increase the pressure and delicately deepen the meaning. His throat caught with emotion when he felt Spock's muscles begin to relax at last. Maybe this wouldn't hit Spock so hard. After all, _this_ had been what they were both really craving, what waited to be discovered on the other side of need.

Surprising Kirk, Spock abruptly pushed himself away and staggered back across the room. Kirk felt a chill from the sudden absence, but fought to ignore it.

They watched each other with contrasting stares.

Waiting.

The hope and confusion in Spock's eyes had been overcome by the most sincere, consuming shame. It had taken longer for reality to hit him than it did Kirk, but now it had definitely landed. Spock was practically trembling with the realization of what he had just done, and Kirk knew that there was nothing he could say or do. What happened next, be it everything or nothing, was out of his hands.

When the silence became too thick and suffocating to bear, Spock turned away and headed for the door. He hesitated for only a moment to try and regain at least some of his composure before quietly fleeing the quarters.

They wouldn't speak of this incident for almost a decade.

* * *

**About this Oneshot: **Over the course of a few episodes we hear Kirk tell Scotty, McCoy and probably someone else that they 'earned their pay for the week' after doing something amazing and, most likely, pretty BAMF. I noticed that we never got to see Spock earn his pay for the week, so my pervy mind obviously went, you know, pervy. Hence this oneshot.

Also, I just can't seem to keep love stuff out of anything, even sexy fics. No, I'm not a hopeless romantic, whatever gave you that idea?


	4. A Simple Snowman

**Author's Note: **This oneshot is for the Kirk/Spock Advent Calendar on Live Journal.

* * *

**A Simple Snowman**

The radiant sun shone down on the sprawling wilderness, illuminating but not melting the fresh snow that had fallen the night before. Amongst the sprawling mountains were impressive trees, amongst the impressive trees was a wide clearing, and amongst the wide clearing was a log cabin full of joyful crewmembers of the Enterprise, celebrating the fact that Christmas was less than twenty-four hours away and they weren't having to spend it at their stations. Of the many conversations that were going on simultaneously, the one taking place by the front door was definitely the most unique.

"Are you requesting that I aid you in the construction of a snowman, Jim?"

Kirk let his mouth twitch with a grin at Spock's choice of words. He had known Spock for years, but his eloquent way of communicating would never fail to tickle him in delightfully inexplicable ways. Pulling on his padded leather jacket, he looked into the eyes of his t'hy'la and let himself smile fully.

"Exactly," Kirk confirmed, "I've been dying to build a huge snowman since we made plans for this shore leave."

Spock stood by the front door in his specially made Vulcan thermal attire with hands behind his back as he replied, "Of course I am familiar with the Earth custom but, as with the majority of Earth's customs, I have yet to grasp the exact purpose."

"Fun," Kirk answered simply. He opened the door, letting the chilled air slide between them.

Spock's right eyebrow lifted into a skeptical arch, "Fun?"

"Don't tell me that after all this time you still don't know what fun is."

"The current definition of fun as a noun in the English language is-"

"What happened in our room last night?"

Spock's only response was a deadpan expression as the crewmembers within earshot were instantly riveted by their conversation, reminding Kirk that other people were, in fact, present.

McCoy appeared out of the crowd then, gesturing emphatically with his half empty glass of egg nog, "If you're gonna leave, Jim, would you be so kind as to not freeze us all to death while you do it?"

Kirk nodded to his friend and looked at Spock, waiting expectantly for him to make a decision. The Vulcan quickly weighed the options of indulging his bondmate's whim or staying inside to interact with a good number of humans who were endlessly interested in his relationship with the captain and not afraid to say so.

Spock silently stepped out onto the porch.

Kirk shot McCoy a triumphant smile as he followed suit and closed the door behind them, missing the doctor's subsequent eye roll.

Now outside in the unbelievably fresh air, the couple stepped down off the porch and into the snow. As they walked away from the cabin, the loose white powder came up to their ankles but the packed snow provided a more than stable surface to trek across.

Kirk felt a small stab of guilt poke him in the ribs, "I didn't mean for anyone to overhear."

"No apology is necessary," Spock assured in his usual tone, "When in my presence you have a peculiar tendency to overlook the presence of other life forms. I have become accustomed to such behavior."

"Well you're a very captivating personality, Mr. Spock."

"It is a skill that I only find redeeming to exercise around you, captain."

They shared a glance then, feeling that spark that had become so familiar and continued on in a comfortable silence.

Now about fifty feet away from the cabin, Kirk stopped and took a look around.

"Seems as good a place as any," he said, bending over and starting to scoop together a pile of snow.

Spock surveyed the newly declared building site, "What is the approximate diameter required of the base?"

Kirk stopped in mid-scoop and looked up, "Large," he said in a dry tone.

"And the midsection?"

"Smaller," he answered as he continued working.

"The head?"

Kirk straightened up, "Are you gonna help or do you want to draw up some blueprints first?"

"Do you think it necessary?"

Kirk went to speak, then caught the sly glint in the Vulcan's eye. Without a word, Spock bent down and began to add snow to the pile. Not one to favor losing, Kirk leaned over, scooped up a fistful of snow, and threw it at Spock's shoulder when he wasn't looking. Startled by the sudden but harmless impact, Spock looked over at Kirk with a silently questioning expression.

"Horseplay," Kirk informed, "It's a human thing."

Proud of his cleverness, the captain went back to building the snowman. Once the base was about waist high, they started on the second level.

"Are you positive you desire this project to be quite so large?" Spock asked as they packed even more snow together.

Kirk replied with a chipper voice, "Why not? You know my motto."

"I have always been under the impression that your motto was more of an aspiration."

Kirk shot a mock glare over in his partner's direction, "Despite your tendency to choke?"

Spock's eyes widened at the crude remark and he remained quiet. Kirk noticed that Spock's cheeks had flushed a gentle green, and couldn't hold back a victorious grin.

He noticed that they had used all of the loose snow around them, so he took a couple of steps away, stooped down and gathered together an armful of the white powder.

As he stood up, he was smacked in the back of the head with a snowball. Dropping the load of snow, he whirled around to find Spock standing there, hands behind his back like a perfect gentlemen.

"The majority of species require recreation," Spock offered matter-of-factly, "Vulcans are no exception."

Kirk brushed the snow out of his hair, "I'll keep that in mind," he muttered in defeat.

Ten minutes later they were staring at a more-than-full-sized snowman that stood between them and the cabin. It was just big enough to eclipse the pair of them.

"Perfect," Kirk said with a grin.

Spock tilted his head to the side slightly as he looked over the mounds of snow piled on top of each other, "If I recall correctly, in order for a snowman to be complete it must have two pieces of charcoal to serve as eyes, a carrot to serve as the nose, and twigs to serve as arms."

"Nah, we don't need them."

Spock looked over at him, "If you never intended on completing this project, then why did you insist that we pursue such an endeavor?"

"Because I wanted to see you build one," Kirk began as he stepped in front of the snowman and faced his bondmate, "and now there's a barrier between us and the cabin's windows."

A flicker of realization showed on Spock's face, but he was far from faltering, "Am I to understand that this was your intention from the commencement of this venture?"

"Are you surprised?" Kirk asked, eyes dancing as he took off his gloves and let them fall to the ground.

Spock spoke in a low voice as he stepped towards the captain, "If I were to be caught off guard by this behavior, it would mean that I had not been giving you my attention over these past four years and three months. And Jim," they were now close enough to touch without moving, "you have always had my undivided attention."

Kirk made the final move, grabbing the sides of Spock's face and gruffly pressing their mouths together. Spock gasped at the initial jolt of cold hands against his warm Vulcan skin, but the moment passed and he wrapped his arms around his t'hy'la, deepening the kiss. Their tangling mouths provided all the heat they needed as Kirk teased Spock's tongue with his own and reveled in the almost electric current that zipped down his throat and heated the deepest part of him.

Kirk's right hand found its way down Spock's torso as he shuddered from the intensity of being in such capable arms. Without hesitation, his hand slipped in between the Vulcan's legs and gripped the already hardening bulge. Spock moaned into Kirk's mouth, unable to keep his impulse in check at the sudden, delicious pressure.

"Jim!" a voice yelled from seemingly miles away, "Get your hands off the first officer and come toast the crew!"

Kirk and Spock froze for only a moment before the former quickly gathered himself and stepped out from behind the snowman. McCoy was standing on the porch, shaking his head.

"What makes you think I had my hands on him?!" Kirk yelled back, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"What am I, an ensign?! Get in the damn cabin!"

Kirk couldn't help but laugh as he looked over at Spock, who had taken the opportunity to regain control of himself. The Vulcan emerged from behind the snowman.

"I believe these belong to you, captain," Spock said, offering the gloves.

Kirk took them with a grin and they both started walking towards the doctor.

After a moment of silence, Spock said, "This recent experience has left me somewhat…discontent."

"I wouldn't worry, Mr. Spock," Kirk assured him, "the snowman's not going anywhere."


	5. Supply and Demand

**Author's Note: **This was written for Obstinatrix on LiveJournal as part of a Star Trek fix exchange community. It ended up turning into my first NC-17 fic ever.

Yeah, you heard me. XD

Enjoy.

* * *

**Supply and Demand**

Kirk and Spock stumbled into the cramped cave, urgency pushing them forward at an almost reckless pace. Keeping his ailing first officer steady, Kirk glanced over his shoulder as they traveled deeper and deeper into the cave.

"We lost them," Kirk observed breathlessly, "How's your hand?"

Spock, still clinging to a sense of pride that he would insist did not exist in the first place, tried to lean on his captain as little as possible, "My ability to push pain into the back of my mind has been compromised and my equilibrium continues to falter."

"You said that salve is found in caves. Do we have time?"

"When speaking in terms of Earth seconds, we have precisely two-hundred and-"

"Forget I asked."

The pair continued down the long, dark path in silence. The air was getting thicker, the space around them smaller. The only source of light was the occasional patch of rock that glowed pale yellow with just enough illumination to show them the way, but that was all. They were nearly blind, Spock was quickly losing his ability to walk, and if they didn't get that natural remedy onto the Vulcan's hand in less than five minutes it would spread over his entire body and he'd be dead before he realized they'd run out of time.

And things had been going so well.

It was just a simple mission: Greet the Hollick race and sign the trade agreement. The Hollicks were peaceful, both them and the Federation were getting something from the deal, the whole mission had practically been handed to them on a silver platter.

What they hadn't counted on was the race's misplaced hatred for Vulcans. Decades ago, a small Klingon ship had crash landed on the Hollick planet after trying to take over a vessel commanded by Vulcans. Filled with petulant anger, the only survivor of the crash told stories to the Hollicks that were nothing short of slanderous, and painted a dastardly, sinister picture of Vulcans as a whole. Since the Hollick race was one of sheltered peace, they had no idea what kind of race the Klingons were and believed every word they were told. Since then they had treated any Vulcan with the utmost fear and suspicion.

So when Kirk and Spock beamed down to the planet surface with the trade agreement in-hand, they'd had no idea that the sight of a Vulcan would cause instant panic and immediate apprehension from the race's leader, Koran, and his subjects. They had seized Spock on sight, restrained Kirk, and demanded to know the "truth" as to what was going on and what kind of so-called peaceful Federation would work with such a crafty, devilish race.

It was when Kirk honestly couldn't answer their questions that the bowl of Trollim was brought forth.

There are plenty of natural resources on Hollick, but the two most fascinating were definitely Trollim and Septa. Trollim was a bright red liquid with the consistency of water that was incredibly nutritious to the planet natives, but highly toxic to anyone with Vulcan physiology. If so much as a Vulcan's fingertip came into contact with Trollim they would only have minutes left as an incredible burning infection spread over their hand and entire body before finally seeping into the bloodstream and claiming the victim's life.

But, while Trollim was great for Hollicks and lethal to Vulcans, the lesser-found Septa was exactly the opposite. Septa was a much thicker, dark green substance and a natural counteragent to Trollim. For Vulcans, it relieved the infection caused by Trollim in mere seconds, but for Hollicks just a simple sniff of the robust odor could send them into a violent seizure.

Once Spock's hand had been forced towards the bowl of Trollim, Kirk had made his move and knocked over a large torch that, in turn, set fire to the large tent they had been held captive in. The captain and first officer then escaped in the confusion and sprinted into the first cave they saw because Spock, in his never-ending knowledge, knew that Septa could only be found in the caves on Hollick.

All of that led them both to this moment, safe in the knowledge that a Hollick would never dare venture into a cave that could contain Septa but frenzied at the thought of not finding the cure in time.

Well, at least Kirk was frenzied.

His mind raced a mile a minute from worry to anger to revenge and back to worry again. Their pace had slowed so they could get a good look at the cave around them in case they ran across some Septa, but his heart was still beating as if they were at a dead run. He hated this kind of feeling, this crushing heartache, because it always meant that Spock was in serious danger. Kirk instinctively gathered Spock closer to him as he kept a keen eye out for the green remedy that would put an end to the most imminent emergency they were facing.

"Do you see anything?" Kirk asked, desperate to keep his companion talking despite the fact that he was damn near out of breath himself.

Spock's tone was still formal and in control even though his legs weren't and his breathing was labored, "I have yet to detect any amount of Septa, captain. Be assured that I will alert you when the situation changes."

"Those Vulcan eyes are always impressive, Mr. Spock, but you can't tell me that-" Kirk stopped at the sight of a slick sheen on the cavern wall to their right, "Is that it?"

Spock followed the captain's stare and nodded, "Affirmative."

He barely got the words out before his body went slack and his eyes slid shut. Kirk managed to hold onto the Vulcan and drag him over the wall, getting them situated to where Spock was sitting with his back up against the wall and his feet out in front of him while Kirk kneeled at his side.

"Spock," Kirk said loudly, grasping the half-human by the shoulders, "Spock?!"

The first officer lifted his head, clearly struggling to maintain what little consciousness he had, "It must…cover the exposed area…entirely…and be applied…in a thorough manner."

Without hesitation, Kirk reached up and swiped his fingertips through the Septa that coated the wall over Spock's head. Kirk picked up the Vulcan's infected hand by the wrist and inspected it. The infection had only spread so far as his wrist, but that was no reason to relax. Kirk went to apply the cure, only to be stopped by an insistent groan from his first officer.

"No," Spock protested, "Allow…me."

"You're delirious, Spock. Just relax, everything will be fine."

"You don't-"

Kirk cut Spock off by applying the Septa to the back of the infected hand with one smooth, insistent gesture. Spock let out a deep moan and shut his eyes, bringing his knees to his chest and looking away.

Kirk lifted his hand, alarmed, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Spock was panting now, "It…it…hurts, but it…must…be done." He swallowed hard. "Continue."

Kirk's brow furrowed. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Spock's pain, but time was short and he followed the Vulcan's instructions, resuming his task. The second the captain's hand came into contact with the first officer's skin once more, the latter tensed every muscle he had, gritting his teeth. Kirk clenched his jaw as well and tried not to concentrate on Spock's reactions. It hurt him too much to see someone so close to him in so much physical distress.

He tried to be as efficient as possible, carefully rubbing the salve over every inch of the Vulcan's afflicted skin. He was thorough, just as Spock had instructed him to be, which seemed to bring an even greater intense pain to the Vulcan because he was writhing and nearly shouting with every stroke of Kirk's fingertips against any part of his infected hand.

"Almost done," Kirk assured him, "Just this one last spot."

Kirk dutifully slid his touch over the last remaining afflicted area, careful to rub it in enough so the cure could take affect. Spock cried out, shuddering from the feeling and holding his legs to his chest with his free arm, his face still turned away.

Kirk watched as the infection on his friend's hand disappeared and Spock's breathing became normal again. He had never seen the Vulcan put on such a display before, and it tugged at his heart. Although, when Spock finally looked him in the eye, Kirk couldn't help but notice something odd. Was that a blush that tinted Spock's cheeks? Did great amounts of pain cause that reaction in a Vulcan?

"Spock…" Kirk began softly, "Are you alright?"

Spock held the captain's stare, but it was clear he had to concentrate to keep from looking away, "The Septa has served its purpose. Might I suggest we beam aboard the Enterprise to determine the next logical step in this present situation?"

In that moment, despite the dim sources of light, Kirk could see something struggling behind Spock's eyes. Normally the captain had a peculiar knack for reading Spock's body language, a trait that had served him well whenever he'd felt like testing the boundaries of their close relationship, but this time there were traces of something he couldn't quite pin down with one specific explanation. He felt the familiar tendrils of concern start to wrap themselves around his heart.

Regaining his strength and former attitudes, Spock's eyebrow twitched upward, "If I am to be intensely studied for any long term effects from the Trollim, captain, I believe a licensed medical professional would be best suited for the task or, if one is not available, Dr. McCoy will have to suffice."

Kirk realized he had been blatantly staring at Spock for much longer than necessary and stood up, unable to stop himself from clearing his throat as he took out his communicator and ordered Scotty to beam them aboard the ship. Neither would say a word until they were back on the Enterprise.

*****

A few short hours later, Kirk was strolling down the halls of his ship. His usual swagger was tightened a bit by stress, the Hollicks had maintained absolute silence since the incident and Uhura had yet to make contact, but that didn't keep him from entering sickbay with his usual authoritative presence.

McCoy sat at his desk, in the middle of filling out a report and mumbling to himself. He looked up to see who had come in and he stood up instantly when he saw that it was Kirk.

"Jim, I was just about to call you," McCoy said, something clearly on his mind.

Kirk recalled the mysterious look in his first officer's eyes from earlier that day and felt the familiar pang of worry, "Is it Spock? Is something wrong?"

"Spock's fine. I let him go back to his room a few minutes ago," McCoy glanced around sickbay to make sure that Chapel was out of earshot before he continued, "Can you walk me through exactly what happened after you found the cave?"

Kirk tilted his head slightly at the odd question, "We went into the cave, found the Septa, and Spock was mostly unconscious so I had to put it on his hand myself. Spock didn't tell you this?"

"I asked, but he insisted being Vulcan about the whole thing," McCoy replied, waving it off, "So you applied the Septa yourself."

Kirk nodded casually, "Yes."

"To his hand."

"Yes."

"With your hand."

"Bones," Kirk sighed, briefly rubbing his eyes, "if you have a point, now is the time to make it."

McCoy lowered his voice as he took a half-step closer to his friend, "What do you know about the mating rituals of Vulcans?"

Kirk shot the doctor an incredulous expression, "Almost nothing, but what does that have to do with how the Septa was applied to Spock's hand?"

"Jim," McCoy began gently, "the hands are a Vulcan's primary erogenous zone."

Kirk's was slapped in the face with a sudden realization, but did his best to try and minimize the situation, "Oh, well that's nothing. Spock was basically unconscious."

"_Basically_?"

"Totally," Kirk insisted, amending his previous words, "He was out. Couldn't have felt a thing. Is that all, doctor?"

McCoy nodded and Kirk thanked him as he left sickbay and started his trip back to the bridge.

Once he was free of his friend's stare, he felt his stomach wrench and turn over. The memory of what had taken place in the cave flashed before his eyes now, and it made too much sense to ignore. The way Spock had squirmed, panted, and struggled had looked like pain at the time, but now that Kirk really examined everything, he knew it hadn't been pain at all. Which could only mean…

Kirk felt a wicked tingling sensation shoot down his spine. He had been wondering what it would be like to get Spock in a position like that for a long time now, and when the opportunity had finally arrived it had flown right over his head. Granted, it had been an emergency, but remembering Spock's labored breathing, the way he grasped his legs to his chest, which must have been an attempt to hide his arousal, and his final shout of supposed "pain" was just too much for the captain to handle.

When Kirk came to the hall's intersection, he made a left.

The bridge was to the right.

He didn't care.

His pace quickened as the beginnings of a devilish plot began to form in his mind. All this time he had played coy, teased, hinted, but always took a step back at the end of the day. He did this because, even though he was quite experienced with this kind of thing, he couldn't risk making a real move on his first officer and having it backfire. As long as there was a shadow of a doubt that Spock wasn't interested, Kirk ultimately behaved himself. But now things were different. He knew enough about Vulcans to guess that if they were being touched by someone they didn't want to be touched by, no infection would keep them from bringing things to a swift halt. The logical conclusion therefore being that, even if the desire was buried deep down, Spock _wanted_ Kirk touching him. This was a fact that had freed something in the famed captain that he had tried to keep in control, contained. But now it ran rampant through his body, and there was no use trying to reign it in now.

A playfully sinister grin flickered across Kirk's face, but he straightened it back into a neutral expression as he looked up and saw that he was outside Spock's door.

Clearing his throat to steady himself, he buzzed the door and waited patiently. He heard Spock's muffled voice grant him permission to enter, and he did.

Kirk walked into the room and the door slid shut behind him. Spock was sitting at his desk, filling out a report. There seemed to be a lot of that going around lately.

When the first officer saw that he was in the presence of his captain, he went to stand.

Kirk waved him down, "No, stay seated. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Quite all right, captain," Spock answered calmly, still holding the stylus he was using to do paperwork with.

"Are you sure?" Kirk asked, folding his hands behind his back, "That Septa seemed to hurt quite a bit."

Spock's jaw tightened only slightly, "It was not the most pleasant endeavor I have had the opportunity to experience, but it was a necessary action."

Kirk was hurt for a moment, then realized that comment couldn't possibly have been meant as a jab and slowly joined Spock behind the desk, "Was it the infection that made it so painful, or does it always hurt when someone touches a Vulcan's hand?" When Spock's eyebrow arched quizzically, Kirk explained, "I don't know much about how Vulcans work. I'm just curious about what caused you to shout like that?"

Kirk's pointed stare bore down on Spock until the Vulcan broke eye contact and turned back to his report saying, "The hands of my race are especially sensitive."

"To pain?" Kirk inquired, his tone growing softer with each word.

At some point, Kirk has positioned himself behind Spock, though neither could tell when exactly that happened.

Spock's eyes were fixed on the work in front of him as he wrote, and he spoke as if he was talking to the report itself, "As I stated previously: The hands of my race are especially sensitive,"

Kirk leaned down over Spock's right shoulder so that the side of his face was a mere inch away, and let his warm breath slide over his first officer's neck. Spock stopped writing and set down the stylus, but remained motionless after that with one hand on the desk and the other on his leg.

"I've been thinking about the cave," Kirk whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "and that shout you gave when I finished rubbing that salve into your skin."

Spock said nothing, but his breath caught slightly as he felt another exhale drift across his flesh.

Kirk lifted his right hand up and reached forward until his fingertips hovered above the hand Spock had on the desk, "It seemed to hurt when I touched you…like this…"

Kirk brushed his touch across the back of Spock's hand, and Spock couldn't keep himself from shuddering.

Pressing his mouth up against Spock's ear, Kirk's voice was barely audible, "I don't think that hurts, Spock," he teased.

"Captain…" Spock managed to choke out.

"I know how it makes you feel," Kirk insisted, need and desire starting to take over his tone, "I know you had to let me do it," He brought his free hand to the back of Spock's head and slowly began to run his fingers through the Vulcan's short black hair as his voice turned raspy, "I know you came."

Kirk slid the palm of his hand over the back of Spock's and they both let out a low, guttural moan at the feeling that soared through them. When Kirk lifted his hand again and Spock tried to keep the contact, the captain felt his chest tighten with victory. His other hand slid from the back of Spock's head to his neck, threatening to slip under the pristine blue uniform at any moment.

"Tell me you want it," Kirk urged.

When he got no answer, Kirk pulled Spock out of his chair and shoved him up against the wall, pressing the length of his firm body into him. Kirk wrapped his hands around Spock's wrists and brought his arms above his head, pinning him firmly.

They were so close their noses were practically touching.

Kirk demanded ruthlessly, "_Beg me_."

Spock stared into Kirk's eyes, his body trembling with need, "Captain," he murmured quietly, "…touch me."

Kirk let go of his wrists and slid their palms together. White hot electricity shot through Kirk's body as he leaned his forehead onto Spock's, and they moaned together once more. Spock returned the pressure, interlacing their fingers and intensifying the sensation.

Kirk was almost dizzy with pleasure, his head swimming in warmth and arousal as he instinctively tilted his chin up to find Spock's mouth. The Vulcan turned his head at the last second and Kirk leaned back, his brow furrowing.

Their hands still locked together, Spock began to force Kirk backwards, knocking the chair off to the side in the process. Kirk felt his ass press into the edge of the desk as Spock loomed over him and brought their mouths dangerously close to each other. Aching for contact, Kirk leaned forward again only to have Spock pull back once more.

Their eyes met, and the heated frustration that Kirk radiated was fully mirrored by his Vulcan counterpart. Spock pressed into Kirk's body until the ranking officer was forced to sit on the desk. Spock then slipped his fingers out of Kirk's grip and snaked one hand behind his captain's back and the other behind his neck, taking a mercilessly firm hold of his blonde hair.

Spock's eyes took on a sinister glow, "_Beg me_," he ordered.

The deep timbre of the Vulcan's voice sent delicious vibrations through Kirk's body as he tried once more to unite their mouths, only to find Spock's grip on the back of his head tighten.

"Spock," he moaned, "kiss me."

Their lips crashed together with such force that, for the first few seconds, all they felt was pain. The discomfort slowly subsided as they explored each other's mouths, completely ignoring the faint taste of blood as their tongues mingled and massaged.

Kirk's hands found their way to the collar of Spock's uniform and he leaned back, pulling Spock with him until they were both lying across the desk. Only the Vulcan's feet were on the floor, and he used this advantage to balance himself as he broke the kiss and leaned back just enough to peal Kirk's uniform off of his body and cast it aside. Kirk's heated muscles tensed as he sat up enough to reunite their feverish mouths and push himself back into a sitting position. The moment he was upright once again, it was his turn to pull away in order to pull Spock's uniform up over his head and toss it the floor.

Kirk pushed himself off of the desk and into Spock's body with so much strength that it sent them rocketing back into the wall as Spock roughly captured Kirk's mouth with his. Their naked torsos slid against each other in a sinfully decadent way, and the feeling was so intoxicating that Kirk couldn't keep himself from moaning loudly into his first officer's mouth.

He couldn't take it anymore.

Without warning, Kirk flipped Spock around so that it was his front that was now pressing into the wall.

Pressing his mouth into Spock's ear for the second time that night, he growled, "Fuck the foreplay."

Spock braced himself against the wall with his hands as Kirk pulled the Vulcan's pants down to reveal a perfect, flushed ass. Kirk shoved his own pants down, relieved that his hard cock was no longer restricted. He licked his hand and quickly spread the makeshift lubricant over his erection, his first officer groaning impatiently.

Kirk seized Spock's hips and, despite the yearning of every muscle in his body to thrust roughly, did his best to take his time and ease himself inside.

Spock let out a long moan, taking a moment to adjust to the captain's size. Then he started moving his hips, urging Kirk to do the same.

The pace built quickly, and Kirk clasped Spock's shoulder to maintain his hold. As Kirk pumped in and out of him, Spock had to hit the wall to keep from screaming so loud that someone would hear. Settling into a steady, but frantic, rhythm, Kirk slid his hand from Spock's shoulder over to the back of his hand, earning a glorious, throaty moan of approval from the Vulcan. Kirk's chest and forehead was now pressed into his first officer's back, allowing for a deeper penetration that sent both of them to a new height of unbelievable pleasure.

Kirk could barely absorb how fucking good it felt to slide into Spock again and again, and to hear the grunts and gasps he earned for his work. He even began to slow down to savor the myriad of sensations that washed over him.

"Harder, Jim," Spock pleaded, "_Harder_."

Quick to obey, Kirk strengthened his positioning by wrapping both arms under and around Spock's shoulders and, summoning every ounce of his strength, began thrusting into Spock with an almost violent force.

The new friction was too much for of them, and Kirk bit down on Spock's shoulder as he came long and hard, his passion only heightened by hearing Spock shout of pure ecstasy from his own climax.

As the pleasure began to subside, Kirk slowed his pace until he eventually came to a stop. Neither of them moved for a long moment, they merely stood and breathed, recovering. Utterly spent, Kirk gently withdrew himself but still stayed where he was, too exhausted to move.

They stayed like this for what felt like seconds but were actually whole minutes, until Spock pulled his pants back up over his waist. Kirk did the same, and they each retrieved their respective uniform shirts.

When they were both fully clothed again, their eyes met.

Neither one moved.

The intercom chirped.

"Mr. Spock?" Uhura's voice said respectfully, "Have you seen Captain Kirk? Dr. McCoy said he left sickbay twenty minutes ago but he hasn't arrived at the bridge yet."

Kirk didn't dare break eye contact as he pressed the button for the intercom, "This is Captain Kirk."

"The Hollicks have made contact, sir," Uhura answered, "It seems they've found some new information about Vulcans and would like to re-discuss the trade agreement."

"I'm on my way."

"Yes, sir."

Kirk switched the intercom off. The fresh silence weighed heavily on both of them, each searching the other for the answer. Spock folded his hands behind his back. He seemed to be waiting patiently for Kirk to leave, like nothing had ever happened.

Kirk wanted desperately to say something, anything, but he was too afraid of saying the wrong thing to break the quiet. Reluctantly, he tore himself away from his first officer's stare and headed for the exit.

"Captain," Spock said suddenly.

Kirk stopped in his tracks and turned around. As Spock walked over and came to a stop directly in front of the captain, his eyes were cast down at the floor. Seeing Spock like that nearly sent Kirk into a panic. The Vulcan was not one to avoid eye contact under any circumstances, which suggested that this moment only had one possible ending.

After a final moment of contemplation, Spock lifted his right hand with only his index and middle finger extended, then he calmly spoke, "For Vulcans, the touching of hands in this manner is the equivalent to a kiss between humans. It is used as a customary display of affection between those who are bondmates or participating in courtship."

Okay, so maybe this moment had two possible endings.

Kirk had to fight to keep his jaw from hitting the floor as he looked down at Spock's offer. Tentatively, Kirk mimicked Spock's display, and gently touched their fingers together. The warmth that resulted from the contact was drastically different from the times their hands had met before. This was gentle, almost a tickle, and so damn pleasant that Kirk realized he must have been smiling for a while now without even noticing.

It was hard to believe that they had been in such a rough, ruthless position only minutes before, but as Kirk looked up at Spock and saw those Vulcan eyes beaming back at him with such a brilliant radiance, he didn't care much.

What happened before was sex.

What was happening now was love.


End file.
